DNA Diaries

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I don't usually follow Adoptive Parents blogs. I find them mostly entitled and sickening, but they do have a right like everyone else to post what ever they think is of importance. This one was brought to my attention by some fine folks I hang with on line and I had to  make a stand. Although my comment will not appear in this woman's blog, it should in this one http://peaceofcricket.blogspot.com/2010/03/oh-yes-please-save-my-soul.html

I remember when my neighbor died. It was on my birthday. My birthday cake was sent (via me) next door as one of those long gone gestures done amongst neighbors when a passing occurred. It was okay with me, I was proud to do it, another cake could easily be made and this was a sad time indeed. This poor man had a 3 year old daughter and an 18 month old son.

But that's not my point.

I have known several men over the years who for a variety of reasons ended up being single fathers. Some were widowers, some had spouses who succumbed to drugs, others contracted diseases like
MS. None thought of surrendering their children to the comforts of strangers or relatives through adoption.

That is my point.

At what point should friends, relatives and strangers lobby for "the best interest" of a child. Should it be before one is actually laid to rest? Or should it be after a parent has tried and failed in his or her own eyes to properly provide for their family?


I think it's just plain wrong for anyone to think a man would surrender his child just because one of that child's family members is missing. I think it's unspeakable for family members who have "long wanted to adopt" to even think about their own agenda at a time when they should be consoling and supportive. Talk about wolves in sheep's clothing. Then to use scripture as their coercion tactic to persuade others into believing what they are doing is anything but self serving is heinous.

We have long chastised men for abandoning their children yet we seek to take their children before giving them a chance to parent. They are automatically stigmatized by most of society. 

What if the husband had died? Would the same wolves be at the door with the same agenda? Would they allow a woman to bury her husband before attempting to coerce her into surrender? Would those children then be considered orphans who need a decent loving two parent family and home?

What about divorced couples? Are they too victims of wolves dressed in family cloth?

Where does it say that a man can not rear his own children? Why would anyone be conspiring to take the only living link he has to his deceased wife away from him before she is even in the ground? I can only think of one reason, and I don't think "serve thy self first" was ever God's plan. I don't care how well you know your bible, this is just wrong.

As far as going to hell for not jumping on this band wagon, I'll stand in line next to "my savior" because he will surely be next to me if we allow society to deem this appropriate.

I can see it now, standing at the funeral home, women (plural) walking up to this man whispering in his ear, not condolences, but rather "hey, you have my number, when you get home call me, I'm interested in your kid" Or maybe at the wake, directly following the burial, some one gathering everyone's attention and announcing to this man who "they" have decided will take over as parents for his child behind his back.

To all the men I know and have known, who cared enough to care for their own children, I applaud you. "I" sing your praises as often as I can. Parenthood is difficult, single parenting is even harder. Being a single father is obviously like fighting wolves in sheeps clothing.

Halloween approaches and it is my favorite time of year. The leaves are incredible here in Michigan and they simply take your breath away. That and the bitter cold that sets in, but hey, everyplace has it's pitfalls.
At this time of year I am always busy constructing costumes for my kids. This year I am facing twin ice cream cones and R2D2. The older ones will dress, but only to be cool....cause begging for candy isn't cool enough for them any more.

Windows are covered in Frankenstein, Dracula and mummies. Yards are strewn with mock tombstones, witches and black cats with arched backs. Bats and creepy crawlies hang from branches and a feeling of mystic static fills the air. We can be what we can't normally be in our daily lives. Princesses, super heros, silly things and scary things. We have that one day to shed any social stigmas and let loose. And who doesn't love that?
This year has a different feel to it than it normally does for me. I couldn't quite put my finger on it. I passed it off as my kids getting older and not having that accustomed wide eyed knaviety as in years past. I pretended the past few years had worn on my own inner child and I was just feeling more adult than I had before. I had a ton of excuses for it, a list as long as my hubby's arm. (and boy does he have long arms.) But I wasn't being honest with myself. It was easier to pretend, like I had for my whole life. But I can't pretend any more. I've lost that ability.

I'm not growing older and losing my stary eyed Halloween spirit. I'm growing into what I have always been but didn't want to admit. I am the skeleton in the closet. Me. With no costume. Just me being me.
Now this is quite a time in life to realize you are a big fat secret, one to be buried forever and forgotten. Or at the very least barely thought of. I'm getting close to 40, you would think this revelation would have happened years ago. I think part of it did, but I wouldn't allow myself to wrap my brain around it enough to give it a title or a place in my life. But as I age, I find it harder and harder to keep up false personas. I don't have the time or energy to devote to it and quite frankly, I don't care to. It is what it is. I am what I am.

I am the skeleton. That lurking looming presence that stikes fear into the heart of my father. The thing that he has worked so hard to lock away behind that closet door and leave forever. He tried to throw away the key, but I just kicked in the door. Who needs a damn key?

It was all fun when I thought I was donning a costume to be something else. Taking on the form of something I wasn't. It was exciting and freeing. But once you come face to face with the fact that you are and always have been nothing but that freakishly dark secret in someones emotional closet-it kind of loses the magic of dressing the part.

Maybe this year I'll be more honest with my costume. I'm thinking a plastic knife protruding out of my back and through my heart might be more appropriate and much easier to pull off this year.

Happy hauntings everyone. BOO!!! yeah....whatever....